Entranced by the charming scene from the moment they had originally alit, the party of modern Strege Sybils were greeted by a vast wildnerness marking the parameters of the mountain's base. "This is where I shall give thanks to Athena Tritogeneia," Olivia declared. "I see Strega Nona has brought along the necessary bay leaves and myrrh stick to burn - I do need a candle, though." "YES...Bruce, be a doll and go fetch the candelabra in the trunk...you know the one I've been meaning to deliver to the Scorpio Sisters. There's some stubs left on the old thing - they'll burn," Captain Lexi commanded. "Formidable!" Duke exclaimed in a cultured French accent, completely at ease with the foreign phrase. "You speak French? And what happened to your Long Island patois, anyway?" Olivia smiled, instictively taking Domenico's hand and raising it to her lips with a happy smile. "Miss Olivia, come with me, please," the gentleman requested while he turned quite red in the face, leading the junior Strega through some brush into a tiny clearing in the wood not far from the party of explorers. "Listen, I was not quite honest before - the accent, it's sort of an act, really - the silver knuckles, the..." "That was you in the dungeon!" Olivia interrupted with a gasp. "I saw the flash of metal - that was you! Why didn't you stop Juan Carlos? Why did you let him take all the credit for rescuing me?" "Because I waited too long, because I...I...wanted to look at you first - I wanted to kiss you, Miss Olivia - there, I said it!" Miss O wasted no time in relieving Duke of a tremendous burden and granted the American a very long, very passionate kiss that seemed to take her back to a memory of another place and time - to 18th c. Venice. "Don't tell me you like opera, too, or I'll die from happiness," Domenico murmured when the pair broke apart. "Do you?" "I love Bizet's Carmen and the singer, Bocelli..." "Andrea Bocelli? Olivia, he is amazing - you are amazing - I am so happy," Duke exulted, breaking into the most beautiful Italian aria Olivia had ever heard. "Who are you?" she sighed. "Your voice, your face - are you Domenico - oh my gods," Olivia gasped a second time. "You're the opera singer Domenico Pistolini, aren't you? I think I'm going to pass out right here, I swear by Athena!" "Yes, I'm him, but only Lexi and Bruce know...don't say anything, all right?" he urged with real humility. "You do know your music - I didn't think anybody was familiar with my work, anymore." "Are you kidding me? I saw you sing at the Met a few years back, when I still lived in the States - I had the biggest crush on you - I mean..." and it was then Miss O's turn to become a true daughter of the genuine Scarlet Pimpernel. "I'm so glad Lexi called and told me to drop everything and get over here - he was so worried after he saw you with that jackal-jackass at his fashion show, and then when you ever emailed him to say you were going to Rome with that low-life - he had a fit! From now on, you stay with me - please say yes - don't go back to..." "I would rather die than ever touch that poseur again," the Peyton girl shuddered. "Duke, the Jackal was so mean and said such nasty things to me - not to mention he'd jump a snake if you held its head long enough - I'm sorry I didn't wait for you," whereupon Olivia's voice became choked and she pressed her face against the fellow countryman's coat to hide her real shame. "It's over now - you're safe with me, my darling. Try to forget," Duke advised when a crashing noise caused the besotted Sybils to start. "Over? Hah! I have the cat - he's mine and you'll never see him again, you brat," an all-too-familiar tone snarled. "I'll toast you in Hades, Olivia..." and a blur resembling Juan Carlos ran past, jumping high over the undergrowth, then racing off towards an awaiting Fiat taxi cab. "That thief took Gemma, I know it," Olivia began to cry. "Back to the cat house in France for that poor little kitty - I'll get him back, you wait...I am so going to double-clown-punch that jerk when I catch him!" "Shhh, I'll get you a new kitten," Domenico soothed. "Two if you like. My dog Locky will love you - he shares your birthday, remember? And as for double-clown-punching, I might juz have to find my silver knuckles, Miss O..." "I haven't forgotten anything you told me or your hardware," Olivia smiled through her tears. "I'm so glad you're here - it seems like a dream come true." "Never doubt that I am your knight, your true heart," Domenico vowed. "I'll help you find anything, Olivia - books, scrolls, the Holy Grail, even..." "Why did you bring up the Grail - tell me, tell me the truth Domenico - what does the famous legend mean to you?" "The Grail is not about a cup, it is about a Lost Tradition, a potent magic that many have defended with their lives. One father and son, in particular, tried to save the gentle Cathars from a crusade the Church launched against those poor souls in the 13th century. The Rogers...the Rogerios...later to be known as the Ruggieri when they were forced from France and migrated to the old Calabria...were written about in code, in a poem that told their story…and their last name, Trencavel, became Percival...the Grail prince! Do you see? Do you hear what I am saying...we have all come together for a reason, to help set the story straight, truly, I have never been more certain of any one thing in my life. And this task, which spans the centuries and has inspired some of the greatest stories ever told, is part of an underground stream – we must restore the Truth, my love...the genuine Grail." "Domenico, who does the Grail serve?" Olivia near-whispered the ageless question, overwhelmed by the singer's purposeful nature as well as his mention of the Ruggieri and their origins. "Those who serve it!" Domenico chimed. "Yes, you do understand - you are my complement - you have the ring still, I see." "Do I look like the type of girl who would lose a Versace anything?" Olivia teased. "Yes, I wear your ring - I looked at Medusa often and prayed she would protect you, wherever you were." "C'mon," Domenico smiled, leading his lady back towards the others. "Strega Nona is becoming impatient. Let me guess, my beautiful sorceress - what will it be today for your great Athena - the Rite of Colchis?" "You will never cease to amaze me, my darling Duke...how did you know?" "Must be because I'm a Gemma-ni," the tenor winked. "Great imagination, always pretending to be somebody else - wonderful Dom - that's the part the Jackal forgot! Listen, why don't we spend the winter in Venice, planning our spring expedition exploring the caves of Soracte - what do you think, Signora Pistolini?" "I think that sounds...enchanting!" Olivia glowed. "What a difference a day makes, eh Duke?" "No Bruce, don't light those black candles," Lexi could be heard admonishing in the background. "Use the other ones, in the middle - Athena only likes white when she's in Italy, you know that!" Read an ancient tale about the Walnut Tree of Benevento, Strega Nona's home.    Text Copyright © 1999 - 2005 cybersybils.com All rights reserved.